


#7: Guide

by nightbirdrises



Series: Advent 2015 [7]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5447894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbirdrises/pseuds/nightbirdrises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt finds himself lost in the Forbidden Forest on Christmas Eve, having lost patience with some of his tormentors and accepted a dare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#7: Guide

**Author's Note:**

> [Click here](http://princehummel.tumblr.com/tagged/klaineadvent) for other advent fills!

It’s easily the worst experience he has ever had since he first arrived at the castle five years ago, which is really saying something. Of course, life at Hogwarts is far better than life at home, but being harassed by people who can charm your books to fly out of your bag and then refuse to fit back inside it is a far cry from anything that Muggle tormentors usually do. After five years of the same few people making life difficult for him, Kurt decided that enough was enough; he needed to prove himself.

However, it seems that taking a dare to go inside the Forbidden Forest for an hour might have been the wrong way to go about it. After two hours in the forest with nothing but the glowing tip of his wand for light, Kurt realizes with a sinking feeling that he can’t find the way back. The forest seems to be reveling in his fear, the dark trees appearing to lean towards him, reaching with their crooked branches.

“ _Incendio_ ,” he whispers, crouched over a small pile of sticks he’d collected. A small fire winks into existence, fed by a flame from his wand and the dry, frozen air. It provides some warmth, but no comfort; Kurt glances around, thinking he’s hearing something or someone lurking nearby. He has heard of centaurs living in this forest, a few of which are supposedly friendly to wizards - but not all of them. He has also heard of werewolves, acromantulas, and worse. Most students would never in their right minds come here outside of Care of Magical Creatures class, and especially not at night. Kurt had thought he was making a small sacrifice (an hour of his precious time spent in the cold) in return for the respect, however grudging, of his peers, but he had drastically underestimated the reasons for the Forbidden Forest being, well, forbidden. He can’t even remember what, exactly, he had been trying to prove. That he’s brave?

What a terribly foolish, Gryffindor-like thing to do. Maybe the Sorting Hat had been right to deliberate its choice a bit longer for Kurt than it usually takes to Sort Slytherins into their House.

Not that there’s any use in lingering endlessly on regret. One way or another, he needs to find his way back to the castle, join the Christmas feast, and forget all about the rash decisions that led him to where he is now. The question is, how? Could he Summon something that would help him? Probably not; if only his broom didn’t have protective spells guarding against such charms and jinxes. He considers shooting flares into the sky in the hopes that they might be spotted by someone at the school, but decides that the risk of drawing hostile attention is too great - especially considering the fact that most of the people who are still at Hogwarts during the holiday break will be in the Great Hall, not looking out of the window at the forest.

Kurt produces more fire when the flames start to fade, and it keeps him from freezing, at least. But other dangers leap to mind when he hears rustling from above; he jumps to his feet, wand at the ready as he peers into the darkness. A loud series of chirps pierces the snow-padded silence, and Kurt takes a step closer to the fire, as prepared as he can be to attack whatever he might be facing. What comes into the firelight, however, is no wizard or Dark creature - it’s a large eagle with golden-brown feathers, and it soars past him in a wide circle until it lands softly, if a bit awkwardly, on the snowy ground. Wings outstretched for balance, the eagle makes its way towards Kurt until it’s hardly an arm’s length away and stops, staring.

“Um, hello?” Kurt says uncertainly. He has never seen an eagle of any kind aside from seeing soaring silhouettes in the sky, but he’s pretty sure that they don’t normally approach humans like this. He also didn’t realize how big they are up close - the wingspan of this one is probably as wide as Kurt himself is tall, if not more so. “What are you doing here?”

He’s talking to a  _bird_. But the eagle seems to respond, tilting its head from one side to the other, although Kurt has no idea what it’s trying to communicate. In the same moment that Kurt decides to try and chase it away - he sees the talons and has no desire to find out how sharp they are firsthand - the eagle takes to flight again, swooping towards the fire. Kurt yells out, worried that it’ll catch on fire, but when the eagle pulls up and away from the ground it’s carrying a bundle of burning sticks, apparently unharmed. It chirps again and glides into the darkness, the firelight from the bundle acting as a guiding torch.

Kurt doesn’t take the time to question why an eagle might be leading him to safety; he follows the light as it swings between the trees, the eagle making a noticeable effort to fly with such large wings among so many obstacles. Kurt conjures a small blast of warm air for his numb hands as he stumbles through the forest, paying more attention to his guide than the underbrush. Eventually he spots other lights between the trees - the castle, finally visible. Overcome with relief, Kurt falls to his knees in the snow as soon as he’s free from the forest, catching his breath.

The eagle, having dropped its burnt-out torch somewhere, lands in front of him again. In the clear light that falls on them from Hogwarts, Kurt notices that it has darker feather markings on the top of its head, and its eyes are the color of rich, dark amber. There’s something vaguely familiar about it, actually, but he shakes off the notion.

“Thank you,” Kurt says, smiling at it in spite of the lack of feeling in his face. He reaches out, slowly so as to allow the eagle a chance to back off first, and gently touches its wing. Its head ducks down, and Kurt swears it looks like the eagle is acting modest. “I wish I could do something for  _you_.”

The eagle backs off and flies away a few minutes later, after Kurt manages to get back on his feet. He imagines he can smell the feast from here and starts walking towards the castle, no longer bothered by the crisp, cold air - thoughts of roast chicken and shepherd’s pie quickly take over his head. He’s so distracted by the idea of hot food that he doesn’t notice the sound of rushing wind until he feels the air shift next to him and jumps a little, looking to his right. To his surprise, he finds another student stumbling a little in the snow, as if he’d just jumped down from above.

“Hey. Sorry, my, uh, landing wasn’t very smooth. Still working on that,” the student says, looking up at Kurt, and now he recognizes him: he’s a Hufflepuff student that Kurt walks past in the corridors sometimes, although they don’t share any classes because they must be in different years. He’s often with friends, but he never fails to have a bright smile for Kurt (the kind of smile that makes his heart skip a beat or two, takes his breath away). Now, Kurt notices something about his hair and eyes that confirm his suspicions in an instant.

“Wait, you’re the eagle?” he asks. The student nods. “You’re an Animagus.”

“Yeah. Registered and everything. Blaine Anderson, golden eagle.”

“Blaine,” Kurt repeats; it’s the first time he has had a name to put to the face. He pauses just inside the door; the sounds of the feast are tempting, but he has a few questions for his guide. “How did you know I was lost?”

“I saw you go in, but I’m afraid it took a while for me to make excuses to leave. By the time I got in the air, I couldn’t find you. The eagle eyes aren’t so great for finding things in the dark.”

“Then how…”

“I saw your fire.”

“Ah.” Kurt fiddles absently with the pocket of his coat. “Well, I really owe you one. I don’t want to think about what could have happened if I stayed out there any longer.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Blaine says, shaking his head.

“Oh, don’t give me that. I can’t just say ‘thank you’ and walk away, you probably saved my life. There must be something I can do.”

“Well…” Blaine glances around as if to make sure they’re alone. Kurt tilts his head, wondering. “Would you come to Hogsmeade with me?”

Kurt feels his face warm as he smiles and nods. “Of course.” Blaine grins and starts to go towards the Great Hall, apparently assuming that Kurt would sit with his House, not a Hufflepuff. But it’s Christmas, and Kurt’s heart is racing with the thought of spending time with Blaine, so he reaches out and takes Blaine’s hand. “Sit with me?”

Blaine’s surprise turns to delight; he nods and squeezes Kurt’s hand, and they walk into the Great Hall together, drawing only a few stares. Kurt keeps his head up and sits with Blaine at the end of the table that is normally the Gryffindor table.

“Just out of curiosity, why did you come for me?” Kurt asks quietly.

“I thought you’d get in trouble if I told someone,” Blaine says, handing Kurt a piece of shepherd’s pie. “And, you know, you’re the last person I want to see in trouble of any kind.”

“We’ve never spoken to each other before today, though.”

Blaine looks up from his plate. “Maybe not, but I’ve _wanted_  to talk to you. I just couldn’t think of a good way to tell you that I… well, that I like you. I was worried that you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

“You’re in luck, then.”

“Why?”

“Because I think I like you quite a lot already, Anderson,” Kurt says, smiling. “Although, whether or not this continues hinges on what your favorite Honeydukes sweet is.”

“Uh, for this time of year it’s Peppermint Toads.”

“Okay, you’re all clear then.” Blaine gives him a questioning look. “A guy once told me he liked the blood-flavoured lollipops.”

“Oh. Was he…”

“Nope, he was not a vampire.” Kurt shakes his head. “Somehow, I didn’t feel much like kissing him after he’d had one. Can you imagine your first kiss tasting like that?”

Blaine’s gaze slips down to his mouth and back up. “No, I don’t think so.”

Kurt’s next sentence catches in his throat; he focuses on the feast, cheeks warm with the realization of what he has just put into their heads. An idea starts to form in his mind as he eats, thinking of Blaine’s lips and first kisses. When Blaine gets up after they’ve eaten dessert, saying that he should probably get back to his common room, Kurt insists on walking with him part of the way there, claiming to know a shortcut. 

If this shortcut happens to guide them to a corridor with mistletoe hanging from the ceiling and the soft light of floating candles, well, then that’s just a happy coincidence.


End file.
